


We were always meant to say goodbye (please don't go)

by iCeDreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accountant Castiel (Supernatural), Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Misunderstandings, Profound Bond Gift Exchange (Supernatural), Second Chances, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29599005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iCeDreams/pseuds/iCeDreams
Summary: When Castiel hears that Dean Smith will date anyone who asks him out for exactly one week, he's curious.  He tests the waters and sees if 'anyone' will include male co-workers from Accounting.
Relationships: Endverse Castiel/Dean Smith (Supernatural)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24
Collections: Profound Bond Gift Exchange: Reunion





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheyDraggedMeInNowIAintLeaving/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Seven Days](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/764040) by TACHIBANA BENIO. 



> As always thanks to my wonderful betas, [Jaeh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaeh/pseuds/Jaeh) and [elephino_forthehalibut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elephino_forthehalibut). RashaPierce went over some last-minute smut details.
> 
> Have some EndverseCas/Dean Smith canon adjacent worlds. Because I love that pair up to DEATH. Happy Single Awareness Day guys.

The resounding slap that April unleashed across Cas’s face snapped his head back. For a petite woman, April could pack quite the punch. He rubbed his cheek ruefully as she walked out of the Accounting Department of Sandover Bridge & Iron, Inc.

Balthazar, Castiel’s cousin and close friend, whistles as he watches April’s resounding slam of the door leading out of Gabriel’s corner office. Followed by the outer secretary’s door before they hear her heels clicking along the corridor towards the elevator. “There goes another of your conquests, Cassie. You’re even more of a womanizer than I am.”

Castiel gives Balthazar a baleful look as he prods his still smarting cheek. “I do not organize ménages à doux left and right, Balthazar.”

“As opposed to free love, occasional recreational drugs, and orgies, I suppose,” Balthazar points out succinctly.

Gabriel, the third of their little trio, snorts at them. “No wonder you two are friends.”

“And who exactly got through college directing and starring in amateur porn on VHS home videos?” Castiel retorted, shooting both his cousins another glare. He drops onto the couch that Gabriel’s crammed into the edge of his office for just such dramatic displays of exasperation.

Gabriel unwraps a lollipop, slowly brandishing it around the room, conceding Castiel’s point. “It’s highly unfair though. There are more women that have dropped Cassie here like a hot potato yet _I’m_ the one that has a reputation of being a womanizing jerk. What _was_ the reason that the lovely April gave for dumping your ass? Rooting you out in my office and making a display of it in front of your dearest friends no less.”

“No, no, let me guess. You weren’t the person she thought you were.” Balthazar shakes his head and taps Castiel’s legs for him to scoot over before squeezing into the low but plush sofa. 

Castiel rolls his eyes, running his hand through his unruly hair. “It’s not my fault they assume I’m one thing and get another. And they say males are superficial. Have you seen the way the fairer sex judges?”

“It’s more because you look stuck up and stuffy. They expect dark and broody Batman, and they get party boy Bruce Wayne instead. What did Aunt Naomi do to you anyway?” Gabriel points out before finally popping his sucker into his mouth.

“Let’s not start,” Castiel murmurs because the last time he took part in an orgy was in college, and he’s touched nothing harder than marijuana. Between the three of them, he was still the most “stuffy” of the lot. “I’m sure it’s not much more than what Aunt Becky did to groom you.”

Gabriel crosses his eyes before leaning against the large floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the break room. Gabriel had lucked out when he had been promoted with his corner office. While he may not have the view of the riverside like the senior VPs, his office’s mezzanine structure saw to it he could people-watch during lunch breaks. It also meant that the three of them could congregate there most of the time. “Mmm-hmmm, but I guess nothing beats Marketing’s Dean Smith.”

Castiel has heard of this Dean Smith. Suave, flirtatious, and his looks aren’t too bad either. They don’t cross paths as there’s no reason for Marketing to go into the Accounting department, and Castiel eats lunch with Gabriel and Balthazar. Still, Balthazar was in Marketing, and he was nodding at the assessment. Currently, Dean uses the very well-stocked staff lounge and blends five different fruits and vegetables in a portable juicer.

“He’ll date with anyone who asks him out,” Balthazar says. He leans onto the sofa’s backrest, his charcoal blazer exposing the white v-neck shirts he favors. “But at the end of the week, he breaks up with them.”

“Why do people continue to do it then?” Castiel says incredulously. Why beat yourself against a wall?

Balthazar and Gabriel both shrug as they watch Dean dump his kale and drink his smoothie. Gabriel grimaces in offense on behalf of all things sweet. Castiel cranes his neck to look at the Director of Marketing’s profile. A greek nose, chiseled chin, clean brushed back hair. The type of good boy he usually stays the hell away from.

Castiel stands up and brushes his sleeves, nudging Balthazar to let him leave. He makes a soft inquiring noise but fits himself to the sofa and allows Castiel to pass between him and the table.

“What are you up to, Cassie?” Gabriel asks, his eyes tracking him shrewdly.

“I need to ice my face and get a cup of coffee,” Castiel answers, not looking back and taking the staircase that connects Gabriel’s secretary’s office to the lounge. 

Castiel casually goes to the espresso machine, not paying attention to the one-way glass he knows his cousins are using to watch him. The machine is conveniently located right next to where Dean is with his mini-juice bar. Castiel nonchalantly grinds the beans and loads up the espresso. He fumbles with the steam, grimacing and yelping, and making an ass of himself jumping and avoiding the steaming milk.

“Whoah, whoah!” Dean says, turning off the frother and heaping paper towels at Castiel.

It’s the first time Castiel has seen Dean Smith up close. No wonder all the females at Sandover have fallen head over heels trying to snag him. Dean Smith is perfect, from the long fringed eyelashes, the dainty freckles scattered across his cheeks down to the bow-lips.

“Are you going out with anybody now?” Castiel blurts out of the blue. Dean stops the frantic mopping of the milk and turns to Castiel with some surprise at the question. He probably thinks few people know about his little arrangement. “Do you really go out with anyone if they ask you?”

Dean blinks rapidly, then rubs the back of his neck bashfully. It’s endearing. “If I’m not going out with anybody else at the moment, there’s no reason not to.”

“Even if you don’t like them?” Castiel prods stepping closer into what most people would deem their personal space.

Oddly, Dean doesn’t balk at Castiel’s intensity. He meets Castiel’s gaze straight on, a thoughtful frown on his face before answering, “I won’t know if I like anyone if I don’t go out with them first.”

Castiel cocks his head to the side regarding Dean, the espresso and his cheek forgotten. “Then how about going out with me?” It’s the first time Castiel has asked someone out on a date instead of the other way around. But what the heck? At least they both know there’s a limit to this.

Before Dean could reply, Balthazar and Gabriel, having reached the bounds of their patience and flown down the stairs, interrupt them by yanking on Castiel’s sleeve, sitting him down. 

“Espresso, Cassie? You can barely work the usual coffee maker,” Gabriel berates. Balthazar hands him more paper towels for the spatters of milk that Dean missed mopping up earlier.

“Cassie?” Dean repeats, still standing close by, not at all bothered by the appearance of both Castiel’s meddling cousins. 

“Oh, that’s right, you haven’t met before,” Balthazar says, gesturing to each other. “Dean, cousin Cassie in Accounting. Cassie, my boss Dean up in Sales and Marketing.” 

Dean offers his hand to shake, and there is an awkward moment while both Balthazar and Gabriel look at Castiel with questions in their eyes and gape as Castiel accepts Dean’s warm hand. It’s strong with a slender wrist and fingers that Castiel might have mistaken for a woman’s. 

“The nepotism in Sandover is huge. Zachariah is one of our uncles,” Castiel says, ignoring his cousins. Gabriel elbows Castiel in the ribs before he can blurt out any more. 

All three of them look at the time, and Dean grimaces. “I have a meeting at two, and I need to go over a few things before then. You end at five?”

“If Gabriel doesn’t pile on extra work before the end of the day, then usually,” Castiel answers readily.

“All right, see you later,” Dean says as he throws away his trash and leaves the break room. “Balthazar, I want the Hilton proposal on my desk by tomorrow.”

Balthazar salutes, and both he and Gabriel wait until he disappears before they round on Castiel. “You asked him out.”

“Brilliant deduction there.” Castiel dumps the cup of coffee he ruined and the foam. Castiel only set it to a brilliant 100°F so he’d have less than second-degree burns; thank you very much. Since he did not want to pass through Gabriel’s office again, he walked over to the elevators and jabbing at the call button. 

“Why the ever-loving fuck?” Balthazar asked.

Castiel shrugs. “I just wanted to know what he’d say. What’s up with Dean Smith, Director of Sales and Marketing.”

“Well don’t tell me I didn’t warn you about him.”

* * *

Dean Smith is at Castiel’s desk at exactly five o’clock. Castiel closes his spreadsheets and looks at the clock, exhausted. He may have an affinity for numbers, but balancing sheets is sometimes stressful work, especially with a boss who is also family, like Gabriel.

“Heya, Cas. What’s your number?”

“Cas?” Castiel repeats, sounding out the syllable. While it was a natural shortening of his name, both Balthazar and Gabriel use Cassie. Since they’ve been together since preschool, it prompted everyone around them to use the name no matter how much Castiel protested. He’d resigned himself to it and had thought Dean would use it after Balthazar’s introduction.

“I was dumped by a Cassie.” And there goes Dean’s hand again, rubbing the back of his neck ruefully, shy at the admission that someone had turned him down. “I don’t want to bring those memories with us here.”

“I prefer Castiel, but Cas is fine.” Castiel leans towards Dean conspiratorially. “We’re going out after all.”

Dean’s face blooms into a smile, and it transforms him from buttoned-down, uptight executive to a boyish, roguish charm that surprises Castiel. “Balt-O said you ride the bus to work.”

Castiel laughs when he realizes Dean means Balthazar as he punches his personal number into Dean’s cell. “I ran over someone’s foot once while parking, and I didn’t want to repeat the experience. I can drive, but I’d rather not.”

Dean shakes his head, twirling his car keys. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

Cas gathers his paperwork and follows Dean to the basement parking. His car is a compact silver Prius, which Castiel thinks fits Dean’s personality to a T. Predictable and fuel-efficient. He tilts his head to the side as Dean opens the passenger door for him. “Have you done this before?”

“I drive people I’m dating home all the time.”

Castiel snorts as he settles into the passenger seat, waiting as Dean gets in. “I meant have you dated a man before?”

Dean pauses before he starts the car. “I imagine it’s probably the same thing.”

“If you say so,” Castiel murmurs.


	2. Chapter 2

Balthazar chuckles at Castiel’s haggard appearance as his cousin glares over a steaming mug of black coffee. “Cassie, what did that cup ever do to you?”

“Don’t you have somebody else to pester? I wasn’t aware Marketing personnel had so much free time,” Castiel gripes as he practically inhales his coffee while aggressively fixing his desk. His pencil cup and pen holders jarring in place at his actions _._

“Oh, ouch, Cassie,” Balthazar says, placing both of his hands over his heart. “I’m wounded. Can’t I visit my favorite cousin?”

Castiel ignores him as he boots up his computer. “You say that to Gabriel all the time.”

“Doesn’t make it less true.” Balthazar shrugs as he sits on Castiel’s desk. “Did you not get laid last night?”

“I was brought home, and then I invited him for a nightcap.” Which truthfully, Castiel didn’t even expect Dean to accept. But he’d been attentive and gracious, talking about working under Zachariah but also teasing Castiel about his love of bees, books, and all things hedonistic.

“That’s it?” Balthazar whistles at Castiel’s nod. “No wonder you’re grumpy.”

“It was more the freakishly peppy good morning call I received at fucking six in the goddamn morning,” Castiel complains as he gulps more coffee. He is not fully awake until he’s sufficiently infused enough caffeine in his veins and Dean fucking Smith called him at ass o’clock. Dean wished him a good morning, offer him company for a run before they stopped by to shower—separately—and then drive him to work. If Castiel ignores the fact that he has to wake up before the sun rises, he has to admit that having someone wait on him and not being alone for exercise is nice. 

Balthazar blinks at the admission. “Oh god, Smith is the typical sappy boyfriend, huh? Sweet calls in the morning, shuttling you around town, and romantic dates?”

“He’s used to romancing women. I’m a different breed of something.” Castiel grimaces when he realizes he’s reached the dregs of his coffee cup, and he still needs more to ward off the headache that he received from waking up at an ungodly hour. He fixes his eyes on Balthazar once he determines there’s nothing work-related he could pretend to do. “Don’t you have someplace else to be?”

“I get it, I get it. I know when I’m not wanted!” Balthazar says, hopping off Castiel’s desk with flair and melodrama, used to Castiel’s frankness and irritability after being together most of their lives. “See you at lunch, dear.”

Castiel waves him off with shooing motions as he returns his attention to his work.

* * *

Castiel glances at his watch when Dean arrives to fetch him at five and sets aside the rest of his work for the next day. He looks over at Dean, who is patiently waiting by the side of his table, noting the assortments of things Castiel has scattered around his desk. From the crystal bee paperweight, the coffee mug stating _I’m going nucking futs!_ Castiel uses as a penholder, and the simple stone diffuser that he secretly drops mandarin and lavender essential oils into for calm. It’s a holdover from his orgy days when he used incense for mood.

Castiel observes Dean back unabashedly. They are going out, one of the privileges must be gawking. Especially since Dean Smith is a remarkable specimen of his kind. He’s exquisitely sculpted with his sandy blond hair nicely gelled and parted to the side. Castiel wants to run his hands through it and mess it up. But those lips. If Castiel is allowed to pick his favorite feature, it has to be those full lips made for all the dirty fantasies Castiel has bottled up since becoming a tad respectable at Sandover. Lips that break out into a smile when he realizes Castiel is looking at him.

“Ready to go?”

Castiel grabs his coat as he stands up. “You’re serious about this dating business, aren’t you?”

When the smile widens, Castiel really knows he’s in trouble. “I’m always serious about who I date, Cas.”

Castiel tilts his head, pondering why Dean was doing this. He bites his lip in indecision before pulling Dean along towards the elevator, unmindful of the whispers from desks around them. “Then let’s go do something fun today.”

“What do you want to do?”

“There’s this nice place that opened downtown, and I’ve been dying to try their vegan burgers.”

That’s how they ended up at Happy Cow Cafe. Castiel orders the Portobello burger. Dean flips through the menu three times before finally settling on a chickpea burger that had annatto aioli with crispy spinach and cabbage slaw. Castiel watches Dean delicately bite into the burger before he puts it down slowly.

“You don’t like vegan food, do you?” Castiel asks knowingly, enjoying the vegan cheese that’s stuffed in his mushroom. “You should have told me. We could have chosen someplace different.”

“This is healthy.” Dean waves at the spread. “I usually do a juice cleanse and run, but I haven’t really gone vegan yet. I enjoy my beef patties way too much.”

“I love burgers. They make me very happy.” The lady eating one table over glares at them when she hears what Dean says, as if enjoying meat is a capital punishment crime. Castiel waves his fingers at her to show he sees her, and she grumpily returns to her food. When he turns back to Dean, he sighs. “Look, we don’t need to finish this if you don’t want to.”

Dean hides a smile behind his fist, but Castiel must have made an inquiring sound because Dean shakes his head. “You don’t like it when people indulge you.”

Castiel slaps his palm across the table, which has everyone around looking at them. “Who wants _that_? You agreed to go out with me. There’s no point in doing it if the two of us are not enjoying it!”

Dean mulls that over for a few seconds before saying, “There’s a comic book store near here. I’ve been meaning to get the latest Batman.”

“Oh, that’d be great. I’m partial to the Man of Steel myself.” Castiel grins, rubbing his palms together. “Also, Superbat has the best subtext ever. Brooding hero with issues paired with noble, self-sacrificing idiots.”

“Superbat, what?” Dean repeats, dumbfounded.

Castiel chortles and doesn’t explain further. 

After picking out comics, Dean impulsively drags Castiel over to the arcades. It is a little embarrassing being the only people there over twenty and wearing suits, no less. They compete in a few rounds of air-hockey and laugh at how abominable Castiel is at hoops.

They spend hours on The House of the Dead shooting game, though. It takes Castiel sometime before he gets used to the gun’s reloading mechanism. Dean teases him endlessly for saving his ass a couple of times while Castiel shakes the gun to reload. (Why do I need to shoot outside of the screen to reload, Dean? This is highly unrealistic.) But when Castiel adapts to the flick of the wrist, he matches Dean kill for kill.

“You’re stealing my zombies, Cas!” Dean complains as they round the hallways and elevators around the mansion.

“I do not steal zombies if you’re not hitting them, Dean,” Cas explains while nonchalantly killing a few more.

After almost an hour of playing, their banter and the high level they reach amass a crowd of spectators. They finish the game with a decent score, and the ending credits and story roll in.

Dean high-fives Castiel and they argue about which is better: Cas’s accuracy or Dean’s score. “It gives you points even when you shoot the dead zombie’s dust, Dean. That shouldn’t count.”

“They’re all dead anyway. A point is a point. Suck it, Cas!” Dean crows all the way as he drives them to Castiel’s apartment.

“I really had fun today,” Castiel says appreciatively when they park at the section of curb assigned to Castiel. “Come up for a few drinks?”

Dean looks at his watch and winces at the time. “I shouldn’t. I’m presenting a new campaign tomorrow, and I need my head in the game.”

Castiel is a little surprised at his disappointment. This week with Dean is to satisfy his curiosity. While he’s admittedly been enjoying himself more than he thought he would, none of it was real. “All right. I’m trying to finish the payroll and our paperwork by the end of the week. Sometimes I wish I could just press a magic blue button on my computer, and it’d be done, without having to think about it much.”

“Hey, if the droids could _think_ there’d be none of us here, would there?” Dean asks Castiel with an eyebrow waggle. Castiel blinks up at Dean, and the moment extends before Dean clarifies, “Star Wars? Obi-wan?”

“I’m sorry, I’m a little behind watching movies. I don’t enjoy going to the theaters alone, and work is just abysmal.”

“A _little_ behind?” Dean says incredulously. “That’s it. Tomorrow. Star Wars marathon. You and me. I’ve just about finished sealing my deals anyway. We can watch the original trilogy and fit Rogue One into the mix if we start early. Bring an overnight bag. You’re sleeping over.”

* * *

Castiel looks at Dean’s apartment, which is classier and all-around better than his cramped one. He should be offended and ask Gabriel for a raise.

“Make yourself comfy, Cas.” Dean motions to the large black couch facing the 64-inch OLED TV. It’s the model that Castiel has just been salivating over at Walmart but never has the budget to buy. Dean throws a bag of popcorn in the microwave as Castiel puts down his overnight bag. He pulls out juice and beers from the steel-lined fridge and places a bucket filled with various drinks in front of Castiel. “Here, I’ll take your bag. I have a bit of everything for drinks.”

Castiel looks at the beer suspiciously. “I thought you were on a strict detox diet?” 

“I, uh, knew you’d want something other than rice milk and kale juice.” Dean is rubbing his neck again as he deposits the bag in one room. “I’d picked some up in the off chance you visited.”

Castiel couldn’t help the grin as he accepts the drink. “Watch out. Next thing you know, you’re taking hits with me in the men’s room at Sandover, and then where will we be?”

They settle with a large bowl of popcorn on the low table in front of them, glasses and drinks cooling beside it. Dean slouches on the couch beside Castiel, clicking on the remote. The screen fills with a long script scrolls through a starry sky.

Castiel fidgets, trying to find a comfortable position to settle into until finally Dean motions to his lap. Castiel eyes the thighs stretched with his workday slacks warily before looking at Dean. “You’re missing the show, Cas. Come on, you can put your head down here.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow because putting his head on Dean’s lap had _not_ been what he thought Dean was offering. But he snuggles in and uses Dean’s thigh as a pillow. While he watches, white droid-like things (Stormtroopers, Cas) fire lasers at some hapless rebels.

Dean’s fingers find their way through Castiel’s shaggy brown hair, running through it slowly. Castiel didn’t mean to, but midway through the second movie, he’s fallen asleep under the rhythmic pull of Dean’s fingers and the background of resistance fighters.

When Castiel comes to, it’s to an unfamiliar ringtone blaring in his ear. There’s a heavy blanket over his shoulders, and he curls deeper into it, loving the warmth in the early morning. He wakes up in bits and pieces, realizing he’s still on Dean’s lap. 

Castiel feels Dean move underneath his cheek, pressed against the soft black slacks he uses for the office, and Dean murmurs, “Those spreadsheets must really kill you, huh.” 

Castiel scrambles up, mortified that he’d been invited over for movies, and he’d just slept on Dean. “Oh god, I’m so sorry.”

The smile that graces Dean’s face is impish. “I always love marathoning Star Wars. It’s too bad you’re not into it, but hanging out with you is still great, you know?”

“It’s not that I’m not into it. They’re fantastic. It’s just _long_ and I like to sleep more, especially since this couch is so inviting. Besides, _someone_ has been getting me up early to run.” There’s an awkward pause interrupted by the guitar riff of a ringtone in the tune of _Shake it off_. Castiel nudges Dean’s leg. “Aren’t you going to get that?”

“Nah, I don’t answer calls from people I don’t know.” Dean glances at his phone. “That’s the generic tone for numbers I haven’t saved.”

Castiel cocks his head to the side. “Well, I guess all the girls you’ve dated before are in your phone, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Not really,” Dean says as he drops the call and stretches his back. He is still in the rumpled long sleeve dress shirt and suspenders that Castiel shouldn’t find so adorable. “I delete their numbers once I stop going out with them.”

Castiel supposes that’s valid if a little sad thinking that he and Dean will become strangers again after this week. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” Dean bumps Cas’s shoulder before he stands up, massaging a crick in his neck. 

“Not going to blend kale and fruits to get you your five servings today?” Castiel follows Dean as he goes to his fridge and rummages around for eggs and other breakfast-related items. 

Dean chuckles as he sets the ingredients on industrial stainless steel countertops. “Not when you’re a guest, Cas. I already let you sleep on the _couch_. I’m not gonna send you off on subpar food. Go on take a shower if you want. The bath is through that door to your left.”

* * *

Dean takes Castiel out on increasingly interesting dates. He enjoys over-the-top, grand gestures (five-star restaurants with violins serenading Cas) with sweet and tender affection. Castiel respects that Dean is just indulging Castiel on a whim, but Dean doesn’t shy away from holding his hand in public or stating that they are together.

Everyone looks on knowingly, especially since Dean has gone out with most of Sandover. Their fifth date brought them to the middle of a boxing ring at a place called the Bunker. It has several areas with mats, and they chose one in the basement rather than those on the main floor. It’s pricier but devoid of spectators. Apparently, Dean boxed in his free time for his health, and Castiel learned a thing or two when he was young, grappling with his siblings and a multitude of cousins. In a family with more boys than girls, Castiel had to learn to be a scrappy fighter.

It’s been a while for Castiel, and though he can keep up with Dean’s jabs, he is breathing hard from the short time that they’ve sparred against one another. Castiel evades Dean’s right hook and tries to pin him to the floor, taking advantage of his overbalance from having missed.

Their kicks and punches don’t find each other most of the time. Dean is good at sparring, and Castiel does not have the energy to follow through, so it is with no surprise that Castiel finally crashes into Dean, winded and dizzy from the fight. They do grapple on the floor, tumbling over each other because both of them are apparently stubborn motherfuckers until Dean leans down on Castiel, trapping him to the mat.

Castiel doesn’t even struggle, knowing he’s thoroughly beaten, though his legs are still entwined around Dean’s with his last-ditch effort to reverse the pin. Dean grins as he restrains both of Castiel’s arms beside his head, panting from the exercise.

They stare at each other, and the air is charged with a strange heat. It’s Castiel who breaks it first, his head hitting the floor with a resounding thump as he closes his eyes. He slots his fingers into the hands that are immobilizing him, squeezing them once, which earns him a sharp intake of breath.

In the next moment, he feels Dean’s lips pressing onto his, chaste and cautious but tender. But Castiel is a hedonist by nature and will take a mile when he’s given an inch. He opens his mouth and kisses Dean back hard, taking what’s offered, listening to the moans that Dean wantonly gives up.

It is with great effort that Castiel stops and looks at Dean’s full-reddened lips. “Are you sure, Dean?” Castiel asks softly, careful not to rock up his hips that are still pinned around Dean’s waist. It might have been the noblest thing he’s done in his entire life.

Dean licks his kiss-bitten lips, drawing Castiel’s eyes to them. Dean Smith has the most wonderfully plush mouth. It is _unreal_. Their breaths mingle, and then he smiles softly. “I won’t know if I don’t try.”

Since then, when they meet up, Castiel and Dean kiss. It may be a chaste press of lips in hello, the dirty, hungry kisses of making out in the car, or the lingering kiss of a goodbye, but Dean kisses Castiel like he means it. 


	3. Chapter 3

Gabriel slaps down his unopened lollipop in front of Castiel. “That’s it, I’m staging an intervention. What do you think you’re doing?”

Castiel ignores his furious cousins by his desk and pretends to be fully invested in his paperwork. “I’m checking to see if we can afford the Hilton project that Marketing has been pushing.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes so hard it’s a wonder they didn’t stick. “Stop being deliberately obtuse. Goddamn, Cassie. I thought you were finished with the self-sabotage.”

Castiel slams his palm down on his desk, getting both Balthazar's and Gabriel’s wide eyes on him. “Last I heard, I am an adult, making adult choices. No one is getting hurt in this arrangement. So what if it has an expiration date? Most relationships do.”

“Castiel,” Balthazar intercedes. It was a statement of what the world has come to when _Balthazar_ mediates in anything. “What Gabe is saying is that we’re worried. You haven’t been this invested in a relationship since Daphne—

“Who fucking used you to con people into thinking that you walked on water!”

“—or Amelia—

“Who dropped you hard when you were having a crisis of faith!”

“And started going on week-long sabbatical orgies to feel something.”

Both Castiel’s cousins talking on top of one another should be more amusing, but instead, it is annoying. They have every right to be worried about Castiel. They’ve been with him through thick and thin. While they’re not entitled to his private life, they’re his family. This stems from both worry and love, though it is unwanted.

Castiel sighs, rubbing the base of his palms over his eyes. “I’m not in love with Dean Smith, okay?”

“No one said anything about love!” Gabriel blurts out, wearing down the carpet with his pacing.

Castiel looks around his workspace. He thanks his lucky stars that his cousins came while everyone is out taking their lunch, leaving the cramped cubicles of Accounting empty. “Then I’m not in _anything_ with Dean Smith other than a relationship with a deadline, which he has with practically all the females in Sandover!”

“Cassie, don’t expect to be the exception in Dean’s long string of relationships,” Gabriel pleads. “He dates all of them for exactly one week, and on the last day, he goes up to them and tells them, ‘I’m sorry, we’ve tried, but this isn’t going to work.’”

“No. Not all of them,” Castiel mutters, thinking of the reason Dean calls him Cas, unlike everybody else. “Look, I’m fine. I don’t have expectations, and you don’t need to worry about me. We’re breaking up on Sunday, so we should go out in the evening. Cousin’s night out.”

“Fine,” Gabriel concedes.

“We’ll wait for you at my flat, all right?” Balthazar asks before he pulls Castiel from his chair. “Now come on. It’s lunchtime. You are a work-a-holic. It’s not like you need to impress your boss. He’s an idiot.”

“Hey! I resent that!” Gabriel protests as they lead Castiel into Gabriel’s office for their usual break shenanigans.

* * *

Saturday finds Castiel and Dean curled up on Dean’s bed. Once Castiel realized the advantages of memory foam, he’d taken every chance to spend time at Dean’s while he can. And while trash TV isn’t one of Castiel’s past-times, he is ambivalent towards it, so he’s agreed to Dr. Sexy. They end up arguing about the boots (Why is that sexy exactly, Dean?) and all the blatant medical inaccuracies in the drama.

Castiel’s head is propped on Dean’s shoulder, watching from a laptop instead of a TV because Dean believes in differentiating sleeping areas from work areas. It’s a testament to Castiel’s powers of persuasion that he convinced Dean to the relocation.

After three episodes, Castiel starts to nod off. Dean rearranges them so that there will be less of a crick in his neck when he wakes up. “There you go, snoozing on me again.”

Castiel blinks heavy-eyed. “If you knew I was going to fall asleep, why did you suggest this?” 

They are close, more than kissing close. Castiel deliberately tilts his head. Dean’s eyes are dark and half-lidded, intent on his. Castiel waits an age, a lifetime, but Dean leans down and takes the invitation.

Castiel pulls Dean, the angle awkward before they manage to push the laptop to the floor. He may be passive before they start, but once it’s offered, Castiel resolves to take what he can, chasing sensation by pressing a hand against his groin. Castiel finds a way to straddle Dean, trying to be as close as he could.

Dean fumbles with the button of Castiel’s pants until Castiel’s member is out. It’s already chubbing up and beginning to drool pre-come. He takes some of the fluid and uses it to slick his way up and down Castiel’s length, causing Castiel to moan at the tight heat of Dean’s palm.

Reciprocating, Castiel opens Dean’s jeans until they can press groin to groin. Their cocks brush together accidentally, and they both groan in pleasure. It is messy, hot, and they both throb with want. Dean tries to reach for his dick, but Castiel slaps away Dean’s palm, putting both of Dean’s hands on his hair so that he could pull if he wants to. Castiel takes over, squeezing their cocks as close as he can while pumping his hand from bottom to tip, twisting his wrist when he reaches the top, running his nail up the sensitive vein of Dean’s dick. 

It causes a satisfying whine from Dean and a thrust against his palm as Dean tries to relearn how to breathe. He stops to touch his forehead to Castiel’s, overwhelmed with the sensation. Castiel keeps his movements slow and steady as he looks at Dean’s face. Castiel doesn’t want to miss any of Dean’s expressions as his body begs for release.

Castiel makes eye contact with Dean and licks his palm sloppily before returning to his task, now aided with the slick slide of pre-come, saliva, and sweat.

“Fuck Cas.”

Castiel stops the movement at the base of their cocks, his gaze suddenly sharp on Dean despite the aborted thrust Dean tries against Castiel’s grip. “When we’re in bed, please call me by my name, Dean.”

“Whaa?” Dean asks, shuddering and half gone. “Cas, please!”

“My name, Dean,” Castiel repeats as he uses his other hand to squeeze the purplish head of Dean’s cock at the tip, dragging his cock all over Dean’s. It draws another needy whine from Dean dropping his cheek to nuzzle Castiel’s. Heat pools in Castiel’s belly at the display. 

“Please, Cas,” Dean whines, his release almost palpable, panting heavily.

“My name,” Castiel repeats, raising his eyebrow. He continues the slow, easy glide of his palm.

“Castiel! Fuck! Please!” Dean’s fingers are tugging at Castiel’s hair in desperation.

Castiel crashes into him, devouring his mouth while he pumps them both. Dean’s balls are heavy and brushing against Castiel’s knuckles. Dean alternately thrusts and grinds against Castiel, speeding up as Castiel finally gives him the pressure and the friction that he’s been begging for until they’re both spent and emptied between them.

Castiel then licks his hand clean, slow and filthy, before he follows the trail of their mixed come from where it had landed near Dean’s perky nipples. He lavishes attention to one until it stands at rigid attention before he goes to the other—Dean whimpers, low and wounded like a lost kitten. 

Castiel lets up because of it and hovers in front of Dean’s lips, wondering if Dean would be averse to tasting his own spend. Dean readily accepts the kisses until finally, Castiel moves on with finishing his initial task, lazily licking over Dean’s stomach and belly button. Dean is still luxuriating in the afterglow with soft sighs and small gasps, boneless after his orgasm. 

With a devilish grin, Castiel trails kitten licks down towards Dean’s cock, which causes him to squirm. When Castiel sucks and swallows, Dean’s back arches, his cock valiantly tries to perk up again though he whines from the overstimulation.

“Goddamnit, you’re a menace.”

Castiel takes pity on him, stops, and snuggles close, fitting himself chest to thigh. “No. I’m the one who’s going to ruin you for all others.”

Dean falls quiet until Castiel nods to sleep curled up beside him.

* * *

Castiel didn’t know what to expect on Sunday, their last day together. It didn’t seem like Dean had any elaborate plan about the day. They’d just finished one of Dean’s god-awful exercise runs before eating out in a quaint diner near the park and then freshening up. Dean had even made the run interesting by holding mock events for the run and making up silly prizes. 

They’d stopped at an old playground for a breather, and Castiel had challenged Dean to hopscotch. Castiel manages to convince Dean that taking a shower together was for water conservation efforts. Dean grumbles about shower sex being complicated, but he’s sated from the orgasm Castiel gave him, nonetheless.

Afterward, Dean takes Castiel to the local library, and they end up picking books for each other. Dean presents Castiel with Slaughterhouse-Five, and Castiel chooses On the Road. While they both check out their reads, Castiel realizes the answer to his question before he asked Dean out. Everyone goes to Dean because he makes them feel special and loved. No matter that they know there is a one-week expiration date. His heart thuds against his chest loudly in the sudden understanding of why Gabriel and Balthazar tried to intervene. Dean Smith, despite all his quirks, is an easy man to love.

They sit down at a park near Castiel’s home for a picnic that Dean prepared last night, feeding the ducks and eating a late breakfast slash early dinner while reading their books. Castiel uses Dean’s lap as a pillow, one of his favorite positions of late, while Dean runs his fingers through his hair. They spend the day together. At the end of it, Castiel blinks slowly, waking up from the past week’s dream.

Castiel puts his book down and realizes that Dean has been staring at him for a while. Straightening slowly from the blanket, food heavy in his stomach from the meal, Castiel feels content until he glances at his watch and realizes the time. “Oh…”

He and Dean end up holding each other’s gaze until one of the ducks quacks for attention. Dean chuckles as he throws some rice at them, and Castiel hitches his breath. Castiel quietly packs up their things while Dean disposes of the last rice he brought for the birds. When they have fixed everything and placed it back in the trunk of a big black Chevy Impala—Dean’s weekend baby, he explained—Castiel treats himself to one last look at Dean.

Dean holds Castiel’s gaze, and they stay that way for a while before Castiel breaks out of it. Castiel says, “It’s been a wonderful week, Dean.”

Dean looks at Castiel and grins. “Yeah, it’s been very interesting.”

“Thanks for indulging me. I know you haven’t really dated men before,” Castiel says, watching as Dean’s grin melts into a frown. “You make the person you’re with feel so much better. You’re very perceptive of everyone’s emotional needs. The woman you finally decide to date for real will be fortunate.”

“Cas, I—”

Castiel interrupts by shaking his head, then leans his forehead onto Dean’s. “No, don’t. Don’t break up with me the way you’ve broken up with everyone else.” Castiel closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then takes one step away from Dean Smith. “I’ll see you around, Mr. Smith. Thank you for your time.”

Castiel turns around and walks back to his apartment. He didn’t want Dean to see his heart breaking. 

Gabriel would have been proud of his exit.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean Smith likes to think that he’s not insensitive. Not really. The entire one week per woman wasn’t intentional on his part. After all, his first serious girlfriend had been Cassie Robinson, and they’d lasted for a few years. But then her father’s friend Jimmy died, and she’d gone home to Cape Girardeau. They’d tried to make the long-distance thing work while he was in Ohio and she was in Missouri, but Cassie said she was a realist and ended things.

He’d dated Anna Milton from Legal, but her boss got wind of the office romance and nixed it immediately in the first week. It’s not that it’s against company policy. But Michael is Anna’s douche older brother and didn’t like trash like Dean around his sister.

Then there was Layla Rouke, who’d been in Sandover’s HR office. Unfortunately, she’d had an inoperable brain tumor and died before things between them got anywhere.

After her, there was Carmen Porter, who was a nurse in Layla’s hospital. But they couldn’t get her shifts at the hospital to work with Dean’s schedule, so they’d ended amicably. By then, the entire one-week rumor about him had spread throughout Sandover, and it was just too much effort to correct people about it.

Besides, he hadn’t felt with anyone the same that he’d felt with Cassie. Especially when he’d gone out with Bela Talbot. He’d been so thankful for the one-week rule then. But watching Cas walk away while the setting sun highlighted his dorky tan overcoat thrown over a lazy morning get-up of jeans and a T-shirt, Dean kind of regrets it.

There’s a heaviness in his chest that he can’t quite explain, and not even driving around in Baby can alleviate it.

By the time Monday rolls around, Dean grimaces when he realizes that he’s brought a cup of tea with extra honey that he’d always prepared for Cas. Cas said he didn’t like coffee on one of their morning runs because it makes him jittery and reminds him of his college days when he indulged in too many vices. He’d admitted the tea calms him and works just as well.

Dean watches movies and, without thinking, reaches over for Cas before he remembers that he’s alone. He stares at his hand, betrayed at the unconscious movement. He stretches it out to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling. Though he didn’t need company when he watches movies, Cas had somehow made the activity feel like it was brand new. The guy was even interested in all the inane trivia Dean spouted as they watched, and he never complained about Dean’s picks.

When Dean tries to ask Cas out, he finds Cas’s desk cleared of his knickknacks. Attempts to weasel out his location is met with stonewalling by Gabriel. The entire Accounting Department is protective of Cas and loyal to Gabriel, so inquiries to that end don’t lead to any fruitful outcomes. Cas doesn’t answer his phone, and the apartment he’d been staying at is already leased to someone else.

Castiel breezed through Dean’s life unexpectedly, changed Dean’s perfectly ordered world like a hurricane, shone light through all the crevices that Dean hadn’t even realized existed, then left, leaving a sizeable Cas-shaped hole. Cas had jokingly said he was going to ruin Dean. He might not have realized that he was speaking the truth.

The weather changes, the brisk cold of winter slowly turns into the green of spring. Dean has spent more time apart from Cas than he’d known him, but Dean still sometimes reaches for his phone in the morning to attempt to call for a run before his brain fully wakes up. It’s embarrassing. He’d have deleted Cas’s number to steer himself away from the temptation if only there wasn’t the persistent hope that Cas would change his mind.

The familiar riff of heavy metal electric guitar streams through his phone. Dean fumbles with it eagerly and is disappointed that the letters that flash actually spell CASSIE. He didn’t want to examine those feelings too closely. Dean grunts when he picks up the call, and Cassie’s low, sultry rumble fills the speakers.

“Is that how you talk to the love of your life?” Cassie asks playfully. Despite breaking up, he and Cassie sometimes still call each other when they’ll be passing through each other’s orbits. “You just break up with your weekly fling?”

A prickle of annoyance flickers, something he hasn’t felt with Cassie before. “I haven’t had one of those for months,” Dean corrects her.

“Ah, then your last one must have been a doozie.” There’s a pause, and a whispered, ‘yeah,’ from Dean before Cassie hums sympathetically. “Ok, lay it out. What’s bothering you?”

Cas’s story spills out in bits and pieces. Dean didn’t realize he needed someone to talk to about it until the last confession he hadn’t meant to say escapes him, “I just miss Cas.”

“Well, there you go, Dean,” Cassie says. “I think you really know what you need to do. You just needed a bit of handholding to get there.”

Dean rubs his thumbs over the bridge of his nose. “More likely a giant shove. Why did you call anyway?”

“I have an assignment for a story that’s heading your way, and I was wondering if we should catch up.” Cassie chuckles. “But from the sound of it, you’ve got your plate full, and ex-girlfriends would just complicate things. You’ve always gone for the things you’ve wanted in life, Dean. Don’t stop now.”

* * *

Dean barges into Gabriel’s office in the middle of the day. Unfortunately, there seems to be some sort of meeting going on, and all eyes swivel towards him. Gabriel’s chair is turned away from Dean’s view to a projection on the wall behind his desk. Gabriel’s secretary, Hannah, trails after Dean and apologizes profusely.

Dean ignores her. “Look, Gabe, I won’t take too much of your time, seeing as you’re busy. I just really want—”

Dean cuts off abruptly when Gabriel’s chair turns towards him, and _Castiel_ is sitting there, his hands steepled with that perfect goddamned eyebrow raised in question. “Yes, Mr. Smith?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Novak,” Hannah apologizes again, tugging ineffectually at Dean’s sleeves. “I’ve been trying to tell Mr. Smith that Mr. Speight has been transferred to another department and that we’ve restructured, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Now that Dean is faced with the person he’s _actually_ looking for, he’s speechless. He’d barged in here with thoughts of shaking Gabriel senseless until he gave up Cas’s location. He didn’t really have a plan beyond that.

“Thank you, Hannah, it’s all right. It must be fairly important for the Director of Sales and Marketing to rush here in the middle of the day,” Castiel allows. Hannah looks unsurely at Dean once before she returns to her desk. “Well, Mr. Smith? My team and I are all agog.”

“Uh… I’m, uh, trying to secure a deal, you see. This guy he’s ah… everyone thinks he’s serious, that he’s a hammer and a follower. They see the trappings and think he looks good if a bit sloppy. But he’s careless with his personal life, even if he’s meticulous with work. He loves bees and is somewhat of a hedonist. He likes going over things repeatedly in his mind, sometimes overthinking things, but he still blurts out whatever on his mind. That’s why he’s tactless to a fault.”

Cas blinks several times at the assessment, stunned. Didn’t he think that Dean noticed these things? While a week is a short time, Cas isn’t that hard to read. He’s very straightforward. 

“What’s the point of this, Mr. Smith?” Cas narrows his eyes, and Dean is losing him. Castiel thinks all that was criticism. “I’m sure you’d be better off bouncing ideas around with your team in Marketing rather than us number nerds.”

“I’d rather have you.”

Castiel looks around the room, realizing that Dean is here for personal reasons with his subordinates watching the unfolding drama. 

“Back to your work stations. You can e-mail me your concerns.” Once every last person files out, Cas stands and goes around his desk, leaning towards it. His arms are crossed, assessing Dean. “My mother once told me I had a crack in my chassis.”

“Jesus.”

Cas waves his hand dismissively. “When I go out with people, when they see me as clearly as you have, that’s when they break up with me.”

Dean steps forward, holding Cas’s gaze in his. “It’s what makes you Cas. They were stupid for not realizing that. Go out with me.”

“You’ve never gone out with anyone more than one week,” Castiel points out.

“Then let’s start a new week, and when it ends, let’s start another.” Dean is close now, and he leans in for a hug, projecting his intent clearly. Castiel stiffens but doesn’t walk away. Dean hooks his chin on Castiel’s shoulder and squeezes tight. 

“What about your ex-girlfriend, Cassie?” Castiel asks, but Dean knows his resolve is fading. “What if we can’t make it work?”

“I never once thought of Cassie when I was with you. We won’t know if we don’t try.” Dean scrapes his cheek against Castiel’s stubble, not knowing that he’d missed it. “Hello, there.”

Castiel presses a chaste kiss to Dean’s cheek. “Hello, Dean.” And when Cas said his name, it sounded like a promise and a welcome home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG barely made it to the deadline! Thanks to the speedy Job of Jaeh and elephino_forthehalibut.
> 
> Finally posting this baby. I will not kid you, this almost kicked me in the ass XD cuz I could not seem to fix my head around thinking how fake dating becomes a reunion fic unless they're fake dating to GO to a reunion. Hopefully, you like my interpretation of the fake dating trope.
> 
> OK, now that I'm not rushing posting I wanna say a few things XD. I love the energy of endverse Cas, Balthazar, and Gabe being all hedonistic and wanton and just chaotic energy. I mean canon Cas is great, but if we're throwing in Dean Smith don't we love polar opposite endverse Cas?
> 
> I've always sort of shipped Superman/Batman. I don't follow that entire ship too much (because I love Destiel WAAAY MORE) but I always found a lot of parallels in SuperBat in Destiel. So Dean loving Batman and Castiel a non-human who saves the earth XD is something I always like (also, when doing Superheroes AU I always think about that.)
> 
> Whenever I think of Cas and movies I always think of him when he was falling and he's just on Netflix the entire time with Dean saying step awaaay from the Netflix Cas. Like I've always wanted a Cas that though likes Dean's Dr. Sexy and Star Wars is a little bit human and kinda falls asleep and not pay attention to it. Because though he likes it because of Dean he can't help it XD
> 
> Obviously the Bunker cannot be MOL, but I thought hey, works as an excercise/boxing ring right?
> 
> Cas saying all his piece and Dean standing like a coat rack and letting Cas leave was kinda reminiscent of 15x18 right? I thought it had that type of feels. Chapter four is kinda Dean's redemption arc. XD although I'm sorry Layla Rouke. You and Dean could have had something. (The girls mentioned are Dean's canon relationships, I wasn't able to fit Robin though).
> 
> I usually write canon so... well canon adjacent anyway. I actually was going to try to write amnesia Emmanuel with Daphne and Dean and Cas reuniting then, but it didn't fit with the prompt, so work with the prompt I always say!

**Author's Note:**

> I have a Black Jewels/Spn fusion fic. If you're into Dark Fantasy please try [Prince of Light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24372778/). Mind the tags. 
> 
> If you enjoyed reading this, my smutty one-shot fics are:  
> [stop the world from turning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24737125): COVID quarantine PB fic  
> [There's a blizzard in my heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28293141) Holiday Season 9ish/Cas Human fic. For the Writers of Destiel prompts.
> 
> My Canon fics are:  
> [Gates of Bronze and Bars of Iron](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302379/chapters/5064719): Heaven world-building, pre-slash Dean Cas (S09).  
> [It’s Cas, not Cass](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15230871): The eternal debate  
> [Dean’s Top 13 Zepp Traxx](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17679548): Dean's thought process with his mixtape 
> 
> I have two fairytale AUs a Red Riding Hood one: [Under the Red Hood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18286178) and a Little Mermaid one: [Look at this Food (Isn’t it Neat)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18368435)


End file.
